


Kitchen

by kimpotato



Category: Kitchen - Yoshimoto Banana, NU'EST
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Family, Gen, Implied Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:35:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25425505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimpotato/pseuds/kimpotato
Summary: After his grandfather’s death, Mingi finds himself in an improvised family that soon faces its own tragic loss. Will he choose to stay with Jonghyun or will his fear of losing people make him run away for good?
Relationships: Choi Minki | Ren & Kim Jonghyun | JR, Choi Minki | Ren/Kim Jonghyun | JR
Comments: 8
Kudos: 21
Collections: Nu'fics x The Parallel





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Spoiler alert:  
> Characters and key events based on Banana Yoshimoto's "Kitchen."
> 
> ***
> 
> Nu'fics x The Parallel Fic Fest  
> Category: Crossover: Books

Three days after his grandfather's funeral, Mingi found himself in their little flower shop, the one his grandfather had managed for the last thirty-three years. The air in the room felt stale—a mixture of different blooms and decay. Though half of the flowers in stock had started to wilt, the other half were still in full bloom, ready for arrangement, should the need arise. 

Mingi would have cried again if he could, but he had spent the last of his tears during the internment. Now all he felt was a dull ache in his chest, peppered with bouts of nostalgia every few hours.

“I’m sorry, Grandpa,” Mingi whispered, absentmindedly running his fingers across a row of half-wilted peonies. “I don’t think I can save any of them. I don’t have a green thumb like you.”

Mingi could almost imagine his grandfather’s voice, softly reassuring him that it’s all right, _You have your own set of skills that you should focus on._

He’d give anything to hear that voice one more time.

But the little shop stayed silent, minus the quiet humming of the air conditioner. 

Until someone pushed open the front door, disrupting the peace, the quiet, and, as fate would have it, Mingi’s life.

***

Kim Jonghyun.

It wasn’t the first time they’d met. Mingi had seen him and his mother during his grandfather’s wake, and several times in their flower shop before that. Jonghyun had delivered food, mostly short-order meals, that Mingi and his grandfather would share for lunch or dinner.

It was, however, the first time they’d spoken.

“I’m sorry,” the young man said by way of greeting. “I saw the CLOSE sign but then I saw you inside, so I let myself in.”

Mingi nodded, grateful for the distraction. The quiet had been deafening, suffocating.

“Kwon asked me to bring you this,” Jonghyun continued, placing a paper bag on the counter. It was similar to the paper bags he had brought many times before—the ones filled with short-order meals from Jonghyun’s food delivery service.

“I didn’t order any food,” Mingi replied.

Jonghyun shook his head and started removing the containers from the bag. “These are on the house,” he explained, carefully placing three stacks of food on top of each other. “We . . . we just want to make sure you’re eating well.”

Mingi blinked rapidly to stop his eyes from misting. “Thank you,” he answered. “You didn’t have to, but thank you.”

Jonghyun nodded and opened one of the containers. “You should eat them while they’re still hot.” He rummaged inside the paper bag and took out a pair of chopsticks. Pushing both food and utensils to Mingi, he said, “Try the gamja-jeon. They’re my favorite.”

As if on autopilot, Mingi found himself walking over to the counter. Using the chopsticks, he carefully picked up a piece of the potato pancake, rolled it as neatly as he could, and took a small bite. Its soft, slightly crunchy texture complemented its salty taste, and Mingi couldn’t help but sigh in satisfaction.

“Good, huh?”

Mingi nodded, popping the rest of the gamja-jeon into his mouth. He eyed Jonghyun quietly, appreciating the soft way he was watching him eat.

“Please tell your mother I said thanks,” Mingi said when he finished chewing his food.

Jonghyun nodded, and then began digging into his pants’ front pocket. “Kwon said you should come to our house one of these days,” he said, placing a small piece of paper on the counter beside the food. “Here’s our home address and my number. Please feel free to drop by anytime.”

Mingi paused, not expecting the invitation. Still, he felt his heart grow warm, as warm as it could, given his situation.

“I will.”

“We’ll expect you then,” Jonghyun finished, bowing a little, before heading back the door. “Enjoy the rest of your meal, Mingi-ssi.”

And then he was gone, leaving no trace of his presence except for the food on the counter and the warmth in Mingi’s heart.

***

He paid them a visit a week later, after wrapping up the transactions he needed to make. It included selling the flower shop, his grandfather’s legacy that he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep. It made him guilty, but he reminded himself that his grandpa wouldn’t want him to be stuck doing something he wasn’t really interested in, just because he felt obligated to.

Mingi rang the doorbell and was welcomed by Jonghyun’s mother, Kwon, a beautiful woman with sharp eyes and a warm smile.

“You’re here!” she beamed, swinging the door widely to let him in. “Jonghyunnie is out on delivery right now, but he should be back in half an hour.”

“Good afternoon,” Mingi answered politely, unsure how to proceed. “Thank you for having me.”

Kwon paused for a second, and then chuckled in delight. “Oh I’m so sorry,” she replied, as she waved Mingi inside the house. “You’re just too adorable for words.”

Mingi managed an uncertain smile as he stepped inside. Looking around, he found a clean living room and a spacious kitchen, probably where Jonghyun and his mother prepared food that they offer for delivery.

“You must excuse me,” Kwon smiled, leading Mingi into the dining room. She motioned for him to sit down, as she went to the fridge and came back with two cans of cola. “I only doll up when I leave the house so I don’t look my best right now.”

Mingi shook his head and blurted out, “But you’re very beautiful.”

Kwon smiled impishly, gave Mingi a wink, and popped open her cola can. “Well then, welcome to our humble abode, Mingi-ssi. Please feel at home.”

***

Mingi found out later, over dinner, that Kwon was, in fact, _not_ Jonghyun’s mother, nor were they related by blood. 

“I married Jonghyunnie’s mom seven years ago,” she explained. 

“Technically, Kwon is my stepdad,” Jonghyun followed through.

Mingi looked at his hosts with wide eyes, waiting for them to burst out laughing and tell him, “Just kidding!” But while there was a twinkle in Kwon’s eyes that said she was amused by Mingi’s reaction, Jonghyun’s soft smile told him that everything they’re saying right now was the truth.

“Jonghyunnie’s mom died two years later,” Kwon continued, face turning mellow. “But I couldn’t just leave my son alone, could I?”

“You must be wondering why I call Kwon my mother,” Jonghyun said easily, as if he’d been asked that question countless times before. “But look at her. Can you honestly call someone who looks like this your dad?”

Kwon chuckled. “I never do things half-assedly, that’s why,” she explained. “I couldn’t fall in love with another woman after Jonghyunnie’s mom, so I had to think long and hard about what I wanted to do with my life. And I realized I wanted to be a woman instead.”

“What an amazing life story!” Mingi couldn’t help but blurt out.

“I know it’s a bit strange at first,” Kwon smiled, fishing a piece of galbi from the serving plate. “But you’ll get used to it. Jonghyun did.”

Mingi turned to Jonghyun and found him smiling that same smile he had given him back in the flower shop. 

“It doesn’t make a difference to me,” Jonghyun replied. “Kwon is family all the same.”

Kwon grinned and pinched Jonghyun’s cheek, which the younger man quickly swatted away.

“Isn’t he the cutest?” Kwon gushed. And then, turning to Mingi, she said, with no prelude whatsoever, “Why don’t you live with us, Mingi-ssi? It’s better than living alone.”

Mingi blinked in surprise. When he had accepted Kwon’s invitation, he was expecting a dinner, a bit of small talk, and nothing more. He certainly did not expect to be invited to move in with them, especially since he didn’t really know either person that well. They had been friends of his grandfather, not him. 

“Yah, don’t scare him like that,” Jonghyun reprimanded his mother. “I told you that being blunt doesn’t work with everyone.”

“It worked on you and your mom!” Kwon protested.

“Mom almost made us move out of Seoul because you freaked her out during your first date!” Jonghyun countered.

“That’s because she couldn’t explain how attracted she was to me!”

“That’s not how she said it went down!”

“But it’s the truth!”

Mingi snorted before he could stop himself. Mother and son stopped bickering and turned to him, one looking sheepish and the other looking properly amused.

“Have we managed to convince you yet?” Kwon asked, a knowing gleam in her eye.

Mingi smiled, his first real smile since his grandfather’s death. He found both Jonghyun and Kwon smiling back at him.

“Maybe.”

***

Mingi did move in with them, two weeks after Kwon’s invitation. Jonghyun helped move his things from his old apartment, the one he had shared with his grandfather. It was bittersweet, moving out, because the place held so many memories, the good and the bad kind.

“I’ll wait for you in the car,” Jonghyun told him, as he lugged the last box in his arms.

Mingi appreciated it, how Jonghyun was giving him enough time, space, and privacy to say goodbye.

“Thank you for everything,” he whispered to the small, empty flat, bowing deeply, as tears fell down the tiled floor. Mingi let them flow, hoping it would be the last time he’d cry, knowing that wouldn’t be the case.

When he came down the flat, fifteen minutes later, he found Jonghyun leaning against the car, concentrating on some game in his DS Lite. Mingi couldn’t help but smile. He had quickly learned, over the course of three weeks he had spent with his new acquaintances, that Jonghyun was a serious gamer, the kind that didn’t let a day go by without playing a game of some kind.

“Thanks for waiting.”

Jonghyun looked up, smiled, and tucked the DS Lite in his pocket. “Ready to go?” 

Mingi nodded, walked over the other side of the car, and opened the passenger’s door. Jonghyun followed suit, hopping into the driver’s seat and clicking on his seatbelt. As he set the car in reverse, Mingi rested his head against the backrest and closed his eyes. He heard Jonghyun begin to hum, a soft melody that brought back childhood memories.

Mingi felt his heart glow warm once again.

***

Living with Jonghyun and Kwon was a new experience, not just because they were basically strangers until a month ago, but because their lifestyle was so different from Mingi’s. Kwon owned a nightclub and thus worked in the evening, only seeing Jonghyun and Mingi in the morning after she came back from work. It was Jonghyun who cooked and delivered their short-order meals, a small business he had inherited from his late mother.

On his first day as an official member of the household, Mingi offered to help out with preparing the orders. Jonghyun had initially refused, telling Mingi that he didn’t need to feel obligated to help out just because he lived with them. They had already agreed beforehand that Mingi would share in the bills, so he was free to do what he really wanted.

But Mingi wasn’t yet ready to go back to his old routine. His boss Hwang Minhyun had allowed him to go on an extended leave, and he wasn’t expected to come back to the office in another week.

And truth be told, Mingi was starting to get bored.

“It can’t be that hard,” he huffed, hand already holding a bell pepper parked in the counter. “Just tell me what I need to do. I want to be useful.”

Jonghyun considered him for a second, and then nodded at the extra chopping board hanging by one of the walls. “I need those julienned,” he instructed, pointing at the carrots. “Can you do that?”

“Of course,” Mingi replied, moving quickly to get the board and a knife before Jonghyun could change his mind. He picked up one of the peeled carrots and stared at it seriously, contemplating.

Jonghyun lifted his head from chopping the onions and regarded Mingi with a questioning look. “What’s wrong?”

Mingi turned to his friend—they were friends now, right?—and grinned sheepishly.

“What does julienne mean?”

***

“We need someone to lead the team for the autumn campaign,” Minhyun told him on his second day back in the office. “We already have several candidates, but I want to offer you the job first.”

Mingi stared at his boss, unsure how to respond. Minhyun was his employer first, but he was also his friend. For him to even consider Mingi for the position flattered him; it was a testament to how much Minhyun trusted him and his designs, despite his recent absence.

“Wouldn’t that cause an issue?” he asked, straight to the point. After all, he had been gone for more than a month because of his grandfather’s death. For him to waltz right back into Hwang & Hwang Clothing and assume such a big role on the get-go would definitely raise more than a few eyebrows.

Minhyun dismissed his concern with a wave of a hand. “Sujin-noona has always been impressed with your designs. We both know your credentials qualify you for the position,” he explained, already handing Mingi a clearbook labeled with the company’s theme for their autumn clothes. “ _I_ know you can lead a team well if you put your heart into it. The only question right now is if _you_ want the job or not.”

Mingi accepted the clearbook and opened it, quickly skimming its contents. He found himself already coming up with designs based on the theme. His fingers began to itch, subconsciously looking for a pencil so he could start sketching, sketching, sketching.

Minhyun snorted, breaking Mingi’s reverie. When he looked up, he saw his boss, his friend, smiling at him.

“I’ll take that as a yes, yes?”

Mingi knew he wouldn’t be able to say no even if he wanted to. And he _didn’t_ want to.

“Yes.”

***

They celebrated his promotion that weekend.

Jonghyun cooked a hefty meal, and even Kwon whipped up a chocolate cake, one of Mingi’s favorite desserts. Mingi prepared something, too, although it ended up more as an aesthetic on the table than actual food, because, to use Jonghyun’s words, “I don’t think that’s edible, Mingi-ya.”

“To good things,” Kwon toasted, after dinner and dessert was served, and their hearts and bellies were full.

“To good things,” Mingi and Jonghyun echoed, as they clinked glasses filled with wine, because Kwon refused to serve beer for such an occasion.

“I will have to stay in the office on weekdays,” Mingi broke the news a few minutes later. “But I’ll come home every weekend, I promise.”

Jonghyun and Kwon smiled, as if they both understood that there was always a price one has to pay for the good things in life.

“Come home whenever you like,” Kwon answered. “This is your home now, too.”

Again, Mingi felt warmth spread in his heart, and with it came the faintest feeling of dread—a familiar fear, the same fear he had felt when his grandfather started fading away, day by day, as old age and illness slowly ate at him.

It was the fear of losing someone he had grown attached to. Of losing someone he loved.

And Mingi realized that he loved them, loved Jonghyun and Kwon, and it scared him, knowing that he might lose them, too, one day.

“Mingi-ya?”

Mingi looked up, only to find Jonghyun looking at him with concern in his eyes. 

“Are you all right?”

Jonghyun’s eyes were kind, and it made the fear in Mingi’s heart bloom all the more. Gripping the stem of his wine glass, Mingi tried his best to give his friend a genuine smile, though Jonghyun’s half-frown told him he wasn’t that successful.

“I’m fine,” he answered, downing the rest of this wine in one go. Then, grinning, he pushed his creation to the center of the table, coaxing mother and son to partake of his offering.

Kwon and Jonghyun both nervously smiled as they regarded the broccoli-and-cheese figurine suspiciously. Only when Mingi was sure that his friends had been properly distracted was he able to heave a small sigh of relief.

**End of Part 1**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glossary:
> 
> gamja-jeon - Korean potato pancakes


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning:  
> Implied violence
> 
> Spoiler alert:  
> Characters and key events based on Banana Yoshimoto's "Kitchen."

It was in his fourth month of living with Jonghyun and Kwon that Mingi first thought of moving out. It had been a busy week in the office, with both Minhyun and Sujin asking for timely updates on their latest campaign. By the time Mingi was allowed to go home, he had been desperate to eat Jonghyun’s home cooking, having lived off cup ramyeon and tteokbokki for five days.

He reached home at half past midnight, unlocking the front door with the sluggardness of one who was on the last verges of consciousness. He was planning to drag himself to the bathroom for a quick shower and then flopping down the bed, hunger be damned.

Except that he found Jonghyun in the kitchen, whipping up something that smelled comforting as it was mouthwatering.

“Welcome back,” Jonghyun greeted him, transferring the food onto a plate. 

“You’re still cooking?” Mingi asked, peering curiously at the kitchen counter. On it he found an array of plates filled with all kinds of food: kimbap, ingredients for ssambap, and Jonghyun’s favorite gamja-jeon.

Jonghyun smiled and handed him a pair of chopsticks and a plate. “I figured you’d be hungry when you came in, so I fixed you a meal. Kwon is sure to look for something to eat when she comes back from work in a few hours.”

Mingi felt his heart melt and ache at the same time. Again the budding fear in his chest resurfaced. He gulped, picked up a piece of lettuce, and munched into it.

Jonghyun chuckled. “You’re supposed to put stuff in that,” he reminded his friend, picking up another lettuce and adding a piece of meat and kimchi in it. He carefully wrapped the lettuce and extended his arm, ssambap waiting directly in front of Mingi’s mouth.

As if on autopilot, Mingi opened his mouth to let Jonghyun stuff in the offering. He chewed slowly, the mixture of grilled pork, kimchi, and lettuce dancing across his tongue.

“Good, huh?” Jonghyun grinned, using his bare hands to tear off a piece of pancake for himself.

Mingi nodded, and as he made his first swallow, he heard himself say, loud and clear in his head: _I need to leave. Before it’s too late._

***

It took him another month to find a place of his own, one that is closer to his office and the subway.

As Jonghyun and Kwon helped him move his things into the unit, Mingi felt more and more guilty, as if he were being an ungrateful lout that didn’t deserve their kindness.

But he knew he had to do it, to distance himself from mother and son, because he had started to become too attached, to love them too much. 

And he knew in the end he’d lose them, too, the way he’d lost his parents, his grandmother, and finally, his grandfather. It had hurt every time, and Mingi didn’t want to hurt that way anymore.

“Don’t forget to invite us for housewarming,” Kwon chirped as he placed down a storage box in the living room. “Jonghyunnie will cook extra food, of course.”

Mingi smiled, trying his best to hide the guilt he was feeling, suspecting that both Kwon and Jonghyun could read him as clear as day anyway.

“Your kitchen’s so small,” Jonghyun commented, putting down a box that contained Mingi’s plates and utensils. “You can barely fit anything in here.”

“I don’t need as many pots and pans as you do, you know,” Mingi shot back, already on Jonghyun’s tail, his arms filled with another box.

“Just let me know if you’re craving for something,” Jonghyun reminded him as he inspected the cupboards. “I’ll drive over to bring it to you.”

“I can’t continue mooching off free food from you guys,” Mingi protested.

Jonghyun grinned, eyes sparkling in mischief. “Who said I’d be cooking for free? Oh but don’t worry, I’ll give you a regular client’s discount.”

Kwon’s laughter carried over all the way from the living room, and even Jonghyun wiggled his eyebrows in a mischievous manner. Mingi snorted, whacked his friend’s shoulder, and felt his heart grow just a bit lighter.

***

Six months later, Mingi realized he hadn’t seen either Kwon or Jonghyun in what felt like forever. Sure, he spoke to them over the phone once in a while, but life happened—he became busier with work, Jonghyun’s food business started getting more clients, and even Kwon began expanding her nightclub.

On the way home from work one evening, Mingi tried to recall the last time he’d even seen Kwon.

Was it in their house? In a cafe? No, it was in the supermarket, as he was doing his bi-weekly grocery shopping.

Kwon was with a few friends, all of them dolled up from head to toe. Kwon had hollered at him from the other end of the aisle, a can of what appeared to be aloe vera drink in her hand.

“There you are, my prodigal son!”

Mingi grinned and hurried over, allowing Kwon to wrap lithe arms around him as her girlfriends giggled. 

“You haven’t come for a visit lately,” Kwon admonished him. “Jonghyunnie misses your horrible food creations, not that he’ll ever admit that, of course.”

Mingi chuckled. “Sorry, we’re in the middle of preparing for another campaign,” he explained. “I barely have time for myself these days.”

Kwon tutted and poked Mingi’s nose. “Too much work will dry your skin,” she reminded him, pushing the can of aloe vera in his hands. “Here, you can have this.”

Mingi laughed and accepted the can. “I’ll come by once we finish promotions,” he promised. “I’ll even bring one of my creations and force feed it to Jonghyunnie, if I need to.”

Kwon barked in laughter and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be expecting you then,” she said, pinching Mingi’s cheek. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

Mingi grinned, squeezing Kwon’s arm in return. “You too.”

***

Mingi never got that chance to make good on his promise.

Kwon already died at the start of autumn.

The news came in the form of a call. And when it came, Mingi was jolted awake, as if forcibly yanked from a nightmare.

“Hello?” he rasped, glancing at this desk clock. _11:03_ _PM_ , it read.

“She died fighting,” Jonghyun whispered, without preamble.

“What?” Mingi clarified, still trying to shake the last vestiges of sleep. 

“Kwon,” Jonghyun explained, as if he were simply talking about the weather. “A customer became obsessed with her and stabbed her at work last night. One of her workmates said she grabbed an iron vase and smashed it against the guy’s head, before she collapsed on the floor.”

“Wait, where are you?” Mingi asked, already out of bed and stuffing some clothes into an overnight bag. “Are you home?” He heard Jonghyun make a small sound of confirmation. “Stay there, I’m coming to you now.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner,” Jonghyun replied, almost a whisper.

“Don’t apologize,” Mingi answered. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes tops.” And then he was out the door, frantically looking for a cab, his heart pounding and breaking at the same time.

***

He found Jonghyun in the kitchen, slumped against the counter. In the sink were unwashed plates, pans, and utensils. An array of raw ingredients were waiting on the countertop.

“Jonghyun-ah,” Mingi whispered, hurrying over to his friend’s side. 

“I tried cooking something,” Jonghyun murmured, eyes that used to be filled with stars now replaced by glass. “I thought that since you’re coming over all of a sudden, you might be hungry.”

Mingi’s stomach twisted at the thought that Jonghyun worried more about him than himself. “I’m fine,” he assured him, kneeling and grabbing Jonghyun’s arms. “When was the last time you’ve eaten?”

“Kwon and I were supposed to have breakfast this morning,” Jonghyun answered dully.

“You need to eat something,” Mingi replied. “I’ll cook you something, okay?”

The smallest smile appeared on Jonghyun’s lips. “No offense, but your cooking sucks.”

Normally Mingi would whack him on the arm for the insult, but this time all he managed was a strained chuckle. “I know how to cook ramyeon, at least.”

Jonghyun snorted and buried his face in his arms. “Kwon is still in the mortuary,” he murmured. “I can’t . . . I haven’t made any arrangements yet.”

“I’ll help you,” Mingi answered automatically. “I’ll take care of everything.”

“I . . . I spent the entire day playing video games.” A strangled cry escaped Jonghyun’s throat. “I’m a horrible son, am I not?”

Mingi shook his head firmly. “No you’re not.” And he was being sincere, too. After all, the day after his grandfather’s funeral, he spent countless hours watching Lady Gaga videos and only stopped when he started to have a terrible migraine.

“I need you to eat something first, okay?” 

He stood and hurried to the fridge, in search of some leftover food. He found a plastic container filled with mini kimbap, and immediately recognized it as Kwon’s handiwork. Jonghyun’s kimbap always looked ready for delivery, not sloppily wrapped like this batch.

Mingi found himself gripping the container tightly as he forced himself not to cry. He knew he had to be strong for Jonghyun now. The tears could come later, much later.

“I found some kimbap,” he announced, heading back toward Jonghyun and sliding down the floor beside him. “Do you want me to cut them up or you wanna eat them as a roll?”

Jonghyun stared at the container, as if in a trance. Mingi reached out and gripped his hand, hard.

“Jonghyun-ah.”

“My mother’s dead, Mingi-ya,” Jonghyun whispered, as if realizing it just for the first time. Mingi watched helplessly as fresh tears fell down his friend’s eyes. “My mother . . . my father . . . both my mothers are dead. I’m an orphan now.”

Mingi placed the container gently on the floor and gathered Jonghyun in his arms. He wanted to tell him that everything would be fine, that things would get better soon, that he still had _him._ But he felt that all of those would be empty words, words that Jonghyun didn’t deserve to hear.

So he tightened his embrace instead, and allowed Jonghyun to sob uncontrollably in his arms. And if he shed one or two tears on the sly, who was there to notice anyway?

**End of Part 2**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glossary:
> 
> kimbap - Korean seaweed rice roll filled with a variety of fillings
> 
> ssambap - Korean lettuce wrap, usually filled with rice, meat, and other ingredients
> 
> ***
> 
> Eriko, the character Kwon is based on, died in a similar way in the book. I really struggled adding this key event into my story because I wasn't sure if I could give it justice. But then I remembered what manager-nim A told me, months ago: that things like these happen in real life and it's precisely because of that that these kind of stories must be told.
> 
> And so this chapter is for Eriko, my favorite character in "Kitchen." Long may your legacy live on.
> 
> Thank you, A, for not giving up on me or this story.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler alert:  
> Characters and key events based on Banana Yoshimoto's "Kitchen."

Mingi stayed with Jonghyun for three more months before he felt the need to run away again. 

They spent the first month grieving—for Kwon, for their little family, for themselves. Meals consisted mostly of take-outs then. Jonghyun didn’t have the motivation nor the energy to cook, and most of what Mingi served him ended up in the trash bin, so horrible they tasted.

By the second month, Jonghyun slowly came out of his shell, but it was really more of Mingi half-dragging him out of it. Mingi knew mourning the loss of a loved one took time, and that it was different for most people. But he distinctly remembered Kwon telling him one time that Jonghyun had refused to leave his room three months after his mother’s death.

_“He almost became a hikikomori,” Kwon shared over cans of beer, one hot summer evening when Jonghyun was on an out-of-town trip._

_Mingi pursed his lips. “You know, I can almost imagine it.”_

_“Neh,” Kwon grinned and popped a fried cuttlefish into her mouth. “Mingi-ya, promise me something.”_

_Mingi raised an eyebrow and began munching on some nuts. “What?”_

_“When I die, don’t let Jonghyunnie mourn me for too long.”_

_Mingi choked and grabbed his beer can to force the nuts down his throat. “Yah, what a bad joke!”_

_Kwon grinned impishly, but Mingi could tell that her eyes were serious. “Jonghyunnie . . . he has such a pure heart, so he can’t process certain emotions well.” She reached out for Mingi’s hand and squeezed it, her grip strong. “Promise me, Mingi-ya. Promise me you’ll help my son.”_

It was this memory that made Mingi work double-time to help Jonghyun deal with his, _their,_ loss. 

So he did it, bit by bit, requesting Jonghyun to prepare for him small snacks at first, then coaxing him to walk in the park with him, maybe order hot choco on weekends. 

And it worked.

By the third month, Jonghyun was mostly back to his usual self, except that his eyes had lost most of their sparkle and warmth. 

It was around this time that Mingi felt himself, once again, being drawn into Jonghyun’s gravity, and it was all he could do to resist being sucked completely in. 

He hated it, hated himself for being scared, scared of losing Jonghyun when he was still there, alive and breathing. 

So when Minhyun told him that he has to go on a two-week business trip to Chuncheon, Mingi grabbed the chance immediately. It was a valid reason, one that didn’t need too much explanation, and a perfect excuse to distance himself from Jonghyun so he could process what’s in his mind and heart.

***

“How long will you be gone?” Jonghyun asked him as Mingi was packing his clothes.

“Half a month, give or take,” he answered, trying his best to avoid Jonghyun’s inquisitive eye. His friend had a knack for reading his thoughts, his mood, and Mingi most definitely did not want Jonghyun to know how guilty he was currently feeling.

“You should try visiting Nami Island if you find some spare time. I heard it’s very beautiful during the winter.”

Mingi hummed. “I don’t know about spare time, but I’ll try my best.”

Jonghyun didn’t reply, but he did sit down beside Mingi and started helping to fold clothes. They stayed quiet for a few minutes, both busy trying to fit all of Mingi’s stuff in his small suitcase.

“Will you be coming back?” Jonghyun suddenly asked, his voice small, uncertain. 

Not _when,_ but _will you._ Mingi felt his chest tighten with guilt.

Before Mingi could say anything, Jonghyun already stood up, smiled one of his sad little smiles, and started for the door. 

“I’m going to prepare dinner. I’ll let you know once I’m done,” the home chef mumbled, head down, body hunched, eyes focused on the floor.

Mingi wanted to give Jonghyun an answer, he really did, but he couldn’t seem to find his voice, not even after his friend had long left the room.

***

“I’ll drive you to the station,” Jonghyun told him the next day, as Mingi dragged his suitcase out his room. Mingi initially wanted to refuse, but a sudden pang of longing burst in his chest, so fiercely he had to pause midstep to make sure his heart was still beating.

“That’ll be wonderful,” he replied, trying his best to smile as normally as he could.

They were both settled in Jonghyun’s small car when Mingi felt it again—a sadness so deep he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.

“Yah, it’s cold. Let’s drink some tea first.”

Jonghyun side-eyed him as he set the car to Drive. “Aren’t you supposed to be in a hurry?”

Mingi shook his head, fingers fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “We have time,” he replied. “I just really want to have tea with you right now.”

Jonghyun shrugged, not really questioning Mingi but complying to his request nevertheless. 

They found themselves in a quaint little tea house in Insadong, tucked away behind busy stores selling souvenirs and art supplies. Mingi ordered yuja tea—tart, sweet, perfect for cold days. Opposite him Jonghyun sipped his alishan—light, fragrant, complicated like him.

“Winter’s setting early this year,” Mingi commented as he rubbed his hands together. “I hope it doesn’t get too cold in Chuncheon.”

“Did you bring enough thermal clothes?” Jonghyun asked in concern.

Sniffing, Mingi sipped his tea gratefully. “I have enough,” he assured his friend. “You’re the one I’m worried about. You keep forgetting to wear a proper coat whenever you go out for deliveries.”

“Kwon always did complain that I’d die of hypothermia because of it.”

It was the first time either of them had mentioned Kwon’s name since her funeral. It set a somber mood between them for a few seconds, but Mingi was determined not to leave on such a low note.

“I won’t allow it,” he replied. “I’m going to bury you in winter clothes until you suffocate in them.”

Jonghyun laughed. “So it’s a toss between hypothermia and suffocation, huh?” he asked, to which Mingi stuck out his tongue in response.

“This is nice,” Mingi murmured, after drinking the rest of his tea. “Drinking tea with you is nice.”

Smiling, Jonghyun sipped more of his alishan and then poured some into Mingi’s cup. “Let’s have tea again when you come back, okay?”

Mingi still wasn’t quite sure _if_ he wanted to go back, but he did reach for Jonghyun’s hand across the table and squeezed it tightly.

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

***

Mingi didn’t visit Nami Island, but he did manage to find enough time to take a leisurely stroll one cold winter evening. It was near the end of his first week in Chuncheon, a rare night where they finished all their scheduled tasks for the day. When Minhyun gave everyone the rest of the night off, Mingi took the chance to explore the area by himself.

He found himself standing in front of a small pop-up food stall a few blocks from their hotel. **_Notsoonie_** , the signboard announced in big bold letters. Mingi was drawn not only by the peculiar name, but by the smell of delicious food wafting from the stall’s makeshift kitchen.

“Hello!” the stall owner, a handsome young man with silver hair and a charming smile, greeted him. “Would you like some tteokbokki or jjamppong, perhaps?”

Mingi sat on one of the empty chairs and studied the menu, one dish catching his attention immediately.

“I’d like some gamja-jeon, please.”

“One order of gamja-jeon, coming right up!”

Mingi watched quietly as the stall owner prepared the batter and expertly fried the potato pancakes. 

“Enjoy your meal!” the young man beamed as he placed the steaming pancakes on the stall bar.

Mingi picked up his chopsticks and then one of the pancakes, dipped it in the sauce, and carefully took a bite. The savory taste of potatoes exploded in his mouth, and it immediately began filling his chest with warmth.

It was a bit different from how Jonghyun usually did it, but Mingi was nevertheless impressed.

He also realized he would very much like Jonghyun to taste this gamja-jeon right now.

“May I order another set to go, seonsaengnim?”

The young man laughed. “Youngmin. The name’s Youngmin,” he said, pointing to the side of the stall. Mingi turned and found the owner’s name on display, together with a photo of a beautiful lady and two lovely dogs. “And yes, you may definitely order another set to go.”

***

“To Seoul, please,” Mingi told the cab driver, giving him the exact address for the GPS.

The driver dutifully input the details and then started the meter. “Pretty late in the night for a drive to Seoul,” he said good-naturally. Mingi noticed that the driver’s eyes all but disappeared when he flashed him a friendly smile.

“Actually, could you possibly wait and drive me back here, too?” Mingi replied, for some reason finding himself comfortable enough to start a conversation. “I just need to drop something off quickly.” After all, Minhyun was still expecting him back sometime within the same evening.

The cab driver (Mingi read his ID and found out that his name was Kang Dongho) hummed and gave Mingi a glance in the rearview mirror. “Must be someone special, for you to drive all the way from Chuncheon just to deliver them food.” 

When Mingi flashed him a surprised look, Dongho grinned and titled his head toward the plastic bag in Mingi’s lap. “I could smell the gamja-jeon from here.”

Mingi smiled and held onto the food container gently. “I guess I’ve always known he is,” he murmured. “But I didn’t want to admit it until now.”

“What made you change your mind?” 

Mingi looked out the window just as they were crossing the Soyang Bridge. “I was eating pancakes and it made me think of him. They’re his favorite, you know.”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate you doing this for him,” Dongho smiled kindly.

“Yes,” Mingi smiled in return.” Yes, I think he will.”

***

“You’re still awake, good,” Mingi said over the phone, as he ran toward their condo’s elevator, his breaths coming out as tiny puffs of white air.

_“What’s wrong?”_ he heard Jonghyun ask from the other line, concern evident in his voice.

“Open the door, I’m almost there.”

_“What?”_

“The front door, open it!” he laughed, then dropped the call as he pressed the button to their unit floor.

By the time the elevator’s door opened, Mingi found Jonghyun already waiting outside, worry reflected in his eyes. He was dressed in a simple shirt and shorts, definitely not something one should be wearing in the dead of winter.

“Why are you not wearing a sweater?!” Mingi shrieked, hurriedly untying his scarf and throwing it around Jonghyun’s neck.

“Are you okay?” his friend asked instead, quickly grabbing Mingi’s arms to check for any injuries.

Mingi swatted Jonghyun’s hands away and then pushed the container of pancakes toward him. “Eat these before they go completely cold.”

Jonghyun blinked and looked down warily at the container. “Please don’t tell me you cooked these.”

Mingi guffawed, grabbed the pack, and opened it. “Come on, try it!” he coaxed, picking up one of the mini-pancakes with his fingers and pushing it toward Jonghyun’s lips.

Jonghyun instinctively opened his mouth to receive the food offering. He chewed thoughtfully for a few seconds and then swallowed, pleasant surprise all over his face.

“It’s really good.”

“Right?” Mingi grinned. “I still like your recipe better, but these are delicious, too.”

“Why are you here, Mingi-ya?” 

Mingi’s lips bloomed into a big smile. It was such a simple, innocent question. Yet it was a loaded one, too, and he guessed that Jonghyun didn’t even realize it when he had asked.

He grabbed Jonghyun’s hand and squeezed it affectionately. “I’ll be back in a week, Jonghyun-ah,” he answered his friend, his _best friend_. Maybe even more than that. His family, possibly. _Definitely_. “Will you cook gamja-jeon for me when I get back?”

He watched Jonghyun blink, at first confused. And then his expression slowly changed to that of comprehension. His soft smile, the one Mingi had grown to love over time, made a proper comeback on his face.

“I’ll cook for you as many pancakes as you want.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” Mingi grinned, squeezing Jonghyun’s hand once more. “Now get back inside before you freeze your ass off.”

“Wait, your scarf . . .”

“Keep it!” Mingi shushed. “Consider it a loaner till I get back.”

And then he slid back into the elevator and pressed the Close button, but not before he was rewarded with another of Jonghyun’s dazzling smiles.

***

“Mission accomplished?” 

As soon as Mingi heard cab driver Dongho’s question, he found himself automatically looking up their condo building. He could see it all in his mind— Jonghyun walking back to their unit, ready to finish the rest of the gamja-jeon. How the small smile was still in Jonghyun’s lips, how he’s tucked warmly in Mingi’s scarf, how his eyes began to regain some of their spark.

Something warm and wonderful settled in Mingi’s stomach, something that not even the best gamja-jeon could fill. He flashed Dongho a beautiful smile.

“Yes. Mission accomplished.”

**End of Part 3**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glossary:
> 
> hikikomori - the abnormal avoidance of social contact, typically by adolescent males
> 
> yuja tea - Korean citron tea
> 
> alishan tea - a high mountain oolong tea grown in the central mountains of Taiwan
> 
> tteokbokki - spicy rice cakes
> 
> jjamppong - spicy seafood noodle soup
> 
> seonsaengnim - polite way to address an older man
> 
> ***
> 
> If you made it to the end of this chapter, then thank you! This story means a lot to me, and I appreciate that you joined me in this journey. I hope that it has brought warmth to your heart (and many things besides).
> 
> Much gratitude to A, for many things, especially the intense live-beta session for Chapter 3. You're a gem.

**Author's Note:**

> This was one of the hardest stories I've ever written because 1) I love Banana Yoshimoto's works, especially Kitchen, so I had to be extra careful in adapting the main characters and key events into my story, and 2) grief is such important theme and I believe it has to be handled with respect, no matter the art form.
> 
> Visit [KP's Corner](https://twitter.com/thelittlebugi/) for more of my plot bunnies and drabbles.


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